n his embarrassment.

But, with a cry of fear, Camilla started back.

"Athalaric!" she stammered, "the King!"

A whole sea of thoughts and feelings rushed through her brain and
heart, and, half fainting, she sank upon, the grassy bank beside the
spring.

The young King, alarmed and delighted, stood for a few moments
speechless before the tender figure lying at his feet. Thirstily his
burning eye dwelt upon the beautiful features and noble form. A vivid
flush shot like lightning over his pale face.

"Oh, she--she is my death!" he breathed, pressing both hands to his
beating heart. "To die now--to die with her!"

Camilla moved her arm, which movement brought him to his senses; he
kneeled down beside her, and wetted her temples with the cool water of
the spring. She opened her eyes.

"Barbarian! murderer!" she cried shrilly, thrust his hand away, sprang
up, and fled like a frightened doe.

Athalaric made no attempt to follow her.

"Barbarian! murderer!" he murmured to himself, in great grief, and
buried his glowing forehead in his hands.

CHAPTER XII.

Camilla came home in such extreme excitement, that Daphnidion would not
be convinced that she had not seen the nymphs, or even the venerable
sylvan god, Picus, himself.

But the maiden threw herself with wild emotion into the arms of her
alarmed mother. The strife of confused feelings within her resolved
itself into a flood of hot tears, and only later was she able to answer
Rusticiana's anxious questions.

A terrible struggle was taking place in the soul of this child. At the
court of Ravenna it had not escaped the growing girl that the dark eyes
of the beautiful Athalaric often rested upon her with a strange and
dreamy expression, and that he eagerly listened to every tone of her
voice. But a suspicion of deeper affection had never entered into her
mind. The Prince, reserved and shy, cast down his eyes whenever she met
his look with an unembarrassed and inquisitive glance. Were they not
both at that time almost children?

She did not know how to interpret Athalaric's manner--he scarcely could
do so himself--and it had never occurred to her to reflect why she so
gladly lived near him; why she liked to follow the bold flights of his
thoughts and imaginations, differing so much from those of all other
playfellows; why she loved to wander silently through the quiet gardens
in the evening-light by the side of the silent boy, w